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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29271945">Evening of Eternity</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/gurjanova/pseuds/gurjanova'>gurjanova</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Titanic (1997)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>1912, 20th Century, Action, Action &amp; Romance, Bittersweet, Boats and Ships, Drama, Drama &amp; Romance, Edwardian Period, F/M, Falling In Love, Fanfiction, Fiction, Historical, Historical Figures, Historical References, Hurt/Comfort, Love, RMS Titanic, Romance, Shipwrecks, Tragedy, Travel, Young Love</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 03:28:47</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>12,005</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29271945</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/gurjanova/pseuds/gurjanova</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>We've all seen Rose getting to meet Jack and fall in love with him. But what if the same thing happened to Cal and at the same time as well?</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Caledon Hockley/Original Character(s), Jack Dawson/Rose DeWitt Bukater</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>16</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. I</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>Wednesday, April 10<sup>th</sup> 1912<br/>10.00am<br/>Southampton, England</strong>
</p><p>It was the morning of <em>Titanic’s</em> maiden voyage. The day was bright and sunny and the ship of dreams shone in all her glory, the buff-colored funnels stood against the sky like the pillars of a great temple. Crewmen moved across the deck, dwarfed by the awesome scale of the steamer. Following the embarkation of the crew, the passengers began arriving at 9.30am and quayside was already crowded. The large number of Third-Class passengers were the first to board due to inspection for ailments and physical impairments that might lead to their being refused entry to the United States – a prospect the <em>White Star Line</em> wished to avoid, as it would have to carry anyone who failed the examination back across the Atlantic, with First and Second-Class passengers following up to an hour before departure.</p><p>“All third-class passengers with a forward berth, this way please! This queue!” instructed porter.</p><p>On the pier horse-drawn vehicles, motorcars and lorries moved slowly through the dense throng. The atmosphere was one of excitement and general giddiness. People embraced in tearful farewells, or waved and shouted bon voyage wishes to friends and relatives on the decks above. A white <em>Renault</em>, leading a silver-gray <em>Daimler-Benz</em>, pushed through the crowd honking, leaving a wake in the press of people. Around the handsome cars people were streaming to board the ship, jostling with hustling seamen and stokers, porters, and barking <em>White Star Line</em> officials.</p><p>The Renault stopped and the Liveried driver scurried to open the door and assist an elegant lady, dressed in a stunning white and purple outfit with an enormous feathered hat, step out of the car. She was seventeen years old, beautiful and regal of bearing with piercing eyes. Raising her head, she looked expressionlessly at the scenery before her, taking it in with cool appraisal.</p><p>“I don’t see what all the fuss is about.” she said. “It doesn’t <em>look</em> any bigger than the <em>Mauretania</em>.”</p><p>A personal valet opened the door on the other side of the car for Caledon Hockley, her fiancé. He was thirty years old and heir to the elder Hockley’s fortune. He was handsome, arrogant and rich beyond meaning.</p><p>“You can be blasé about some things, Rose, but <em>not </em>about <em>Titanic</em>.” replied he, pointing with his cane. “It’s over <em>hundred feet</em> longer than the <em>Mauretania</em> and far more luxurious. It has squash courts, a Parisian café… even Turkish baths!” he turned and gave his hand to Rose’s mother, who descended from the touring car behind him.</p><p>Ruth Dewitt Bukater was fortyish society empress from one of the most prominent Philadelphia families. She was a widow and ruled her household with iron will.</p><p>"Your daughter is far too difficult to impress, Ruth.” added he, on which she just laughed. “Mind your step.” he said, indicating a puddle.</p><p>“So this is the ship they say is unsinkable.” walking confidently, Ruth gazed at the leviathan.</p><p>“It <em>is</em> unsinkable!” shouted he, with pride of a host providing a special experience.</p><p>“Sir, sir.”</p><p>“God Himself could not sink this ship—” continued he, ignoring the man calling for him.</p><p>“Sir!”</p><p>“What?!”</p><p>“Sir, you’ll have to check your baggage through the main terminal. It’s round that way, sir.”</p><p>Caledon Hockley reached for his pocket, taking out a few banknotes.</p><p>“I put my faith in you, good sir.” he nonchalantly handed him a fiver. “Now kindly see my man.” he pointed at his valet behind.</p><p>This entire entourage of rich Americans was impeccably turned out, a quintessential example of the Edwardian upper class, complete with servants. Cal's valet, Spicer Lovejoy, was tall and impassive, dour as an undertaker. Behind him two maids emerged, personal servants to Ruth and Rose.</p><p>“Yes, sir. It’s my pleasure, sir.” answered the man, hurrying to secure the bills in his pocket, his eyes dilated. “If I can do anything at all—” he went on, before Mr. Hockley’s valet turned him around.</p><p>“Yes, right.” Lovejoy started, grabbing him by the shoulder and leading him to the back of the cars. “All the trunks from that car there. Twelve from here. And the safe, to the parlor suite rooms B-52, 54, 56.”</p><p>The White Star man looked strickened when he saw the enormous pile of steamer trunks and suitcases loading down the second car, including wooden crates and steel safe. He whistled frantically for some cargo-handlers nearby who came running. Cal breezed on, leaving minions to scramble and quickly checked his pocket watch.</p><p>“Ladies, we’d better hurry.” he moved forward. “Come along.”</p><p>He indicated the way toward the first-class gangway. They moved into the crowd. Trudy Bolt, Rose's maid, hustled behind them, ladened with bags of her mistress's most recent purchases, things too delicate for the baggage handlers.</p><p>“My coat?” asked Rose, turning.</p><p>“I have it, miss.” answered maid.</p><p>Cal was leading, weaving between vehicles and handcarts, hurrying passengers, mostly second class and steerage, and well-wishers. Most of the first-class passengers were avoiding the smelly press of the dockside crowd by using an elevated boarding bridge, twenty feet above. They passed a line of steerage passengers in their coarse wool and tweeds, queued up inside movable barriers like cattle in a chute. A health officer examined their heads one by one, checking scalp and eyelashes for lice. They passed a well-dressed young man cranking the handle of a wooden biograph cinematograph camera mounted on a tripod. He was filming his young bride in front of the <em>Titanic</em>. She stood stiffly and smiled, self-conscious.</p><p>“Look up at the ship, darling, that’s it. You’re amazed! You can’t believe how big it is! Like a mountain. That’s great.”</p><p>She, without an acting fiber in her body, did a bad pantomime of awe, hands raised. Cal was jostled by two jelling steerage boys who shoved past him. And he was bumped again a second later by the boy’s father.</p><p>“Steady!” gritted Cal.</p><p>“Sorry, squire!” answered the man, pushing on after his kids.</p><p>“Steerage swine. Apparently missed his annual bath.”</p><p>“Honestly, Cal,” started Ruth “if you weren’t forever booking everything at the last instant, we could have gone through the terminal instead of running along the dock like some squalid immigrant family.”</p><p>“All part of my charm, Ruth.” replied he nonchalantly. “At any rate, it was my darling fiancée’s beauty rituals which made us late.” he smirked at Rose.</p><p>“<em>You</em> told me to change.” she shot back.</p><p>“I couldn’t let you wear black on sailing day, sweet pea. It’s bad luck.”</p><p>“I felt like black.”</p><p>Cal guided them out of the path of a horse-drawn wagon loaded down with two tons of Oxford marmalade, in wooden cases, for <em>Titanic's </em>Victualling Department.</p><p>“Here I’ve pulled every string I could to book us on the grandest ship in history, in her most luxurious suites and you act as if you’re going to your execution.” protested Cal.</p><p>Rose looked up as the hull of <em>Titanic</em> loomed over them. A great iron wall, Bible black and sever. Cal motioned her forward, and she entered the gangway to the D Deck doors with a sense of overwhelming dread.</p><p>“Welcome aboard, ma’am. Welcome to Titanic.” officer at the entrance greeted them.</p><p>Rose and Caledon were walking arm in arm, following Ruth that was walking in front of them, to their suites. This was their first impression of the Titanic. Everyone else was amazed by her beaty, but Rose seemed untouched. Outwardly, she was everything a well brought up girl should be. She spoke when she was spoken to; smiled, nodded and batted her eyelashes when she needed to. But on the inside, she was conflicted and very pessimistic.</p><p>The clock struck noon and Titanic was under her way. So many people were out on the boat deck waving their goodbyes to their loved one.</p><p>“Goodbye, I’ll miss you!”</p><p>“I will never forget you!”</p><p>It didn’t matter if you knew someone. It was a spectacular moment for both sides, and for history.</p><hr/><p>By contrast, the so-called "Millionaire Suite" was in the Empire style, and comprised two bedrooms, a bath, WC, wardrobe room, and a large sitting room. In addition, there was a private fifty-foot promenade deck outside. Caledon Hockley was parading down it, inspecting it and holding a bottle and a glass of champagne. It had potted trees and vines on trellises.</p><p>“This is your private promenade deck, sir.” said steward that followed him. “Will you be requiring anything?”</p><p>Cal leaned over to look through the window before dismissing him.</p><p>“Excuse me.”</p><p>Back inside, a room service waiter poured champagne into a tulip glass of orange juice and handed the Bucks Fizz to Rose. She was looking through her new paintings. There was a Monet of water lilies, a Degas of dancers, and a few abstract works. They were all unknown paintings, lost works. She was decorating the room along with the servants with them. One thing she was passionate about was art.</p><p>“This one?”</p><p>“No.” answered Rose, continuing to search for the specific painting she was looking for. “It had a lot of faces on it. This is the one.”</p><p>“Would you like all of them out, miss?”</p><p>“Yes. We need a little color in this room.” she replied confidently, placing it down.</p><p>A steward enrolled in, carrying the rest of their luggage.</p><p>“Put it in there. In the wardrobe.” Lovejoy instructed him.</p><p>“God, not those finger paintings again.” Cal came in the picture, leaning on the door frame. “They certainly were a waste of money.” he sipped on his champagne.</p><p>“The difference between Cal’s taste in art and mine is that I have some.” Rose shot back, unmoved, continuing to admire a picture she was holding. “They’re fascinating.” she put it down on the couch. “Like being inside a dream or something. There’s truth, but no logic.”</p><p>“What’s the artist’s name?” asked miss Trudy, their maid.</p><p>“Something Picasso.” she replied, reading from the canvas.</p><p>“Something Picasso.” snorted Cal in the background. “He won’t amount to a thing. He won’t, trust me.” he added, walking inside.</p><p>“Let’s put the Degas in the bedroom.” said Rose, leaving the sitting area.</p><p>“At least they were cheap.” commented Cal, taking another sip.</p><p>“Ah, put it in the wardrobe.” said Lovejoy to a porter who wheeled Cal’s private safe into the room on a hand-truck.</p><p>Rose stood in the middle of her room, looking for the perfect spot to put the painting down.</p><p>“It smells so brand new!” exclaimed Trudy, who was already in there hanging up some of Rose’s clothes. “Like they built it all just for us.”</p><p>Deciding to place the painting on the vanity table beside the canopy bed, Rose turned around, extending her arm to Trudy to unbutton her sleeves.</p><p>“I mean, just to think that tonight when I crawl between the sheets, I’ll be the first!” both girls giggled.</p><p>“Oh, Trudy…”</p><p>“Tonight, when <em>I</em> crawl between the sheets, I’ll <em>still</em> be the first.” Caledon confidently walked in, obviously hearing their previous conversation.</p><p>He motioned to Trudy with his head to get out of the room.</p><p>“Excuse me, miss.” Trudy did a little curtsy before hurrying out.</p><p>Caledon closed the door behind her, walking up to Rose and hugging her from behind.</p><p>“The first and only. Forever.” he nuzzled his nose between her neck and ear, inhaling her smell and moaning in pleasure.</p><p>Rose felt uncomfortable. Not only by his comments, but by his imposed presence. Her expression showed how bleak a prospect this was for her. But she couldn’t keep on denying him so as an acknowledgment she gave him a little peck on the cheek.</p><p>“Ooh…” Cal was intrigued.</p><p>He knew he wouldn’t get anything more from her as of right now, but he drew her closer and kissed her shoulder before leaving her by herself. They spent almost the whole afternoon unpacking.</p><p>Four hours after <em>Titanic</em> left Southampton, she arrived at Cherbourg and was met by the tenders. Because Cherbourg lacked docking facilities for a ship the size of <em>Titanic</em>, tenders had to be used to transfer passengers from shore to ship. There, additional passengers were taken aboard. The process was completed within only ninety minutes and at 08.00pm <em>Titanic</em> weighed anchor and left for Queenstown. Among those passengers that came aboard was a broad-shouldered woman in an enormous hat named Margaret Brown, but everyone called her Molly. She carried a suitcase in each hand when spindly porter came running to catch up with her to take the bags.</p><p>“Well, I wasn’t about to wait all day for you, sonny.” she said, dropping her luggage. “Here, take them the rest of the way if you think you can manage.”</p><p>Her husband had struck gold someplace out west and she was what was called “new money”. She was a tough talking straightshooter who dressed in the finery of her genteel peers, but will never be one of them.</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>Thursday, April 11<sup>th</sup> 1912<br/>11.30am<br/>Queenstown, Ireland</strong>
</p><p><em>Titanic</em> arrived at Cork Harbour on the south coast of Ireland. It was partly cloudy, but relatively warm day, with a brisk wind. Again, the dock facilities were not suitable for a ship of <em>Titanic’s</em> size and tenders were used to bring passengers aboard. <em>Titanic</em> weighted anchor for the last time at 01.30pm and departed on her westward journey across the Atlantic, with nothing out ahead of them but ocean.</p><p>First Officer William Murdoch was standing alone on the bridge, observing the scenery when Captain Edward John Smith turned from the binnacle to him.</p><p>“Take her to sea, Mr. Murdoch.” he ordered. “Let’s stretch her legs.”</p><p>“Yes, sir.” he went to the wheelhouse. “All ahead full, Mr. Moody.”</p><p>“Very good, sir.” answered junior officer.</p><p>They both turned the engine telegraph to <em>all ahead full</em>. The riven water flared higher at the bow as the ship’s speed built. Captain Smith stepped out of the enclosed bridge onto the wing. He stood with his hands on the rail, looking every bit the storybook picture of a Captain, a great patriarch of the sea.</p><p>“Twenty-one knots, sir.” Mr. Murdoch informed him.</p><p>“She’s got a bone in her teeth now, eh, Mr. Murdoch.” Captain nodded his head, acknowledging.</p><p>They both continued to observe the scenery before them when captain’s tea arrived. He thanked his fifth officer Harold Lowe and took a sip. He contentedly watched the white V of water hurling outward from the bow like an expression of his own personal power. They were invulnerable, towering over the sea.</p><p>“I’m the king of the world!” someone shouted from the forward end of the ship.</p><p>Captain Smith smiled satisfactorily seeing that the passengers are enjoying his ship.</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <strong>Friday, 12<sup>th</sup> April 1912<br/>Atlantic Ocean</strong>
</p><p>It was lunch time and Caledon, Rose and Ruth were sitting in the Palm Court with a respectable society, a beautiful sunny spot enclosed by high arched windows.</p><p>“She is the largest moving object ever made by the hand of man in all history.” Joseph Bruce Ismay, who was sitting with them, declared.</p><p>He was an English businessman who served as chairman and managing director of the <em>White Star Line</em>.</p><p>“And our master shipbuilder, Mr. Thomas Andrews here designed her from the keel plates up.” he pointed at a handsome thirty-nine-year-old Irish gentleman to his right.</p><p>“I may have knocked her together, but the idea was Mr. Ismay’s.” replied Andrews, disliking the attention. “He envisioned a steamer so grand in scale and so luxurious in its appointments that its supremacy would never be challenged. And here she is. Willed into solid reality.” he knocked on the table to prove his point even further, followed by chuckles of Ismay.</p><p>“Hear, hear.” toasted Cal.</p><p>“Why’re the ships always being called ‘she’?” asked Molly Brown. “Is it because men think half the women around have big sterns and should be weighted in tonnage?” they all laughed. “Just another example of the men setting the rules their way.”</p><p>The waiter arrived to take orders.</p><p>“I’ll have the salmon.” said Ismay to the waiter at his side.</p><p>For that time, Rose prepared and lit a cigarette, inhaling deep.</p><p>“You know I don’t like that, Rose.” her mother leaned to whisper to her.</p><p>Rose turned her head and exhaled smoke in her face.</p><p>“She knows.” taking advantage of her carelessness, Cal snatched the cigarette from her and put it out. “Hm, we’ll both have the lamb. Rare, with very little mint sauce.” he said to the waiter when he finally noticed him. “Hm. You like lamb, right, sweet pea?” he questioned, turning to Rose.</p><p>Rose smiled wide only with her lips, batting her eyelashes at him. Seeing all that, Molly Brown was amused by their dynamic.</p><p>“You gonna cut her meat for her too there, Cal?” she chuckled. “Hey, who thought of the name <em>Titanic</em>? Was it you Bruce?” she didn’t wait for his answer, but narrowed her eyes at Ismay, smirking.</p><p>“Yes, actually.” replied he. “I wanted to convey sheer size. And size means stability, luxury, and above all, strength.” he explained.</p><p>“Do you know of Dr. Freud, Mr. Ismay?” listening to all of this, Rose was interested. “His idea about the male preoccupation with <em>size</em> might be of particular interest to you.” both Mr. Andrews and Molly Brown chuckled even though they tried to suppress it.</p><p>“What’s gotten into you?” her mother asked, horrified.</p><p>“Excuse me.” she rose from the table.</p><p>“I do apologize.” Ruth said, once Rose had left.</p><p>“She’s a pistol, Cal. Hope you can handle her.” said Molly amusingly.</p><p>“Well, I may have to start minding what she reads from now on, won’t I, Mrs. Brown?” he was tense, but feigned unconcerned.</p><p>“Freud? Who is he? Is he a passenger?” asked Ismay, confused.</p><hr/><p>Rose went out on deck, feeling suddenly overwhelmed. She was feeling very pessimistic about her future due to the first-class life she was being pulled into by Cal and Ruth. She stood at the aft railing of B deck promenade in a long yellow dress and white gloves staring at the water. She looked like a figure in a romantic novel, sad and isolated.</p><p>She then felt someone’s eyes on her. She turned her head and was met with the gaze of a beautiful blonde boy who could not take his eyes off her. She frowned slightly and looked away, but could still feel his eyes on her. She looked back and their eyes met once again across the space of the well deck, across the gulf between worlds.</p><p>Coming from behind her, Caledon took her arm and spun her around, but she jerked away from him. He tried saying something to her, but she stormed away, leaving him alone. He went after her, but something else caught his attention. Or rather, someone. It was a girl, sitting on the nearby bench, obviously amused by the events happening before her for she had a playful smirk on her face.</p><p>“What are you laughing at?” Caledon frowned at her.</p><p>“Oh, me?” she played surprise. “Nothing.” she shrugged it off.</p><p>“I’d suggest you mind your own business, lady.” he warned.</p><p>“Then I’d suggest you take your private manners privately.” she didn’t feel threatened in the slightest.</p><p>Caledon narrowed his eyes at her and pursed his lips, thinking of a smart answer. But she then rose up, her long purple skirt falling at her sides. She elegantly sauntered to him, him keeping his distance and carefully watching her next move. She wasn’t afraid to look him straight in the eyes and smirk in his face.</p><p>“Now, if you’ll excuse me, Mr…” she trailed off.</p><p>“Hockley.” he mustered somehow; his throat dry.</p><p>“Mr. Hockley,” she nodded, acknowledging. “I have to go get myself ready for dinner. We’ll meet then, won’t we? First-class?” she looked him up and down, her lips curling into a smirk again. “Of course. Till then.” she batted her eyelashes at him one last time before disappearing along the A deck promenade leaving him to look long and intriguingly after her.</p><p>He couldn’t help but wonder who is this bold and mysterious young lady. She was kind of like Rose, but she wasn’t rude about it. No, she was actually very charming. He stood there for a couple of seconds just thinking before composing himself and heading inside. He’ll have to find out at dinner, won’t he?</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. II</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The First-Class Dining Saloon was one out of four locations for First Class passengers to eat located on D Deck. If they wanted, the parents could allow their children to eat here with them, but not if the dining room was fully booked. The dining room was decorated in wooden paneling, painted white, and the floors were covered in blue linoleum tiles, featuring an elaborate red and yellow pattern. The room’s portholes were elegantly concealed by inner leaded-glass windows, giving passengers the impression that they were eating onshore instead of at sea. For even more atmosphere, the windows were lit from behind during the evening meals. The dining room’s meals were prepared in the First- and Second-Class Galley next door, which also serviced the Second-Class Dining Room, similarly located on the same deck aft of the Galley and pantries.</p><p>Rose sat there in the plush chair, flanked by people around the table in heated conversation. Cal and Ruth were laughing together while on the other side lady Duff-Gordon was holding forth animatedly. Rose was staring at her plate, barely listening to the inconsequential babble around her. She saw her whole life flash before her eyes as if she had already lived it; an endless parade of parties and cotillions, yachts and polo matches… Always the same narrow people, the same mindless chatter. She felt like she was standing at a great precipice with no one to pull her back, no one who cared or even noticed.</p><p>Beneath the table, she held a tiny fork from her crab salad. She poked the crab-fork into the skin of her arm, harder and harder until it drew blood. She then stopped, blinking her trance away. She stood up, still kind of dazed.</p><p>“Are you alright, sweet pea?” Caledon asked for she didn’t say anything for a few seconds.</p><p>“Mhm,” she murmured, faking a smile. “If you’ll excuse me.” she lifted her skirt and hurried out of the dining room.</p><p>Following after her with his eyes, Caledon spotted who he was hoping to see the whole evening at a nearby table. She was already looking back at him, a smile forming in the corner of her lips. He nodded his head at her, indicating that he recognized her, and she raised him a glass, sipping on her drink right after. He couldn’t help but smile whole heartedly and copy her action. He could see she tried to stay and listen to the conversation that was happening at her table, but her eyes were running to him every now and then.</p><p>And Cal could not remain indifferent, he liked the attention. He wanted to approach her, but it was still too early and he would draw too much unnecessary attention. He decided that it’s best to wait until the male part of the society moved to the smoking room.</p><hr/><p>In the meantime, Rose was walking along the corridor. A steward coming the other way greeted her and she nodded with a slight smile. She was perfectly composed until she entered her room. She stood in the middle, staring at her own reflection in the large vanity mirror. She just stood there and then—</p><p>With a primal, anguished cry she clawed at her throat, ripping off her pearl necklace which exploded across the room. In a frenzy, she teared at herself, her clothes, her hair… Then she attacked the room. She flanged everything off the dresser and it flew clattering against the wall. She hurled a hand-mirror against the vanity table cracking it. She looked at her broken reflection. Her makeup was smudged and hair all over the place. She looked a mess. But she didn’t care. She knew perfectly well how to fix it once and for all.</p><p>Rose ran along the B deck promenade. She was disheveled, her hair flying. She was crying, her cheeks streaked with tears. But she was also angry, furious! Shaking with emotions she didn’t understand… hatred, self-hatred, desperation. A strolling couple watched her pass, shocked at the emotional display in public. She collided into them due to her blurry vision which shook them even more. But she had no time to stop, her mind was made up.</p><p>She ran up the stairs from the well deck on the stern deck and across the deserted fantail. Her breath hitched in an occasional sob which she suppressed. She slammed against the base of the stern flagpole and clanged there, panting. She stared out at the black water.</p><p>Then she started to climbing over the railing. She had to hitch her long red dress way up, and climbing was clumsy. Moving methodically, she turned her body and got her heels on the white-painted gunwale, her back to the railing, facing out toward blackness. Sixty feet below her, the massive propellers were churning the Atlantic into white foam and a ghostly wake trailed off toward the horizon. Rose stood there like a figurehead in reverse.</p><p>She leaned out, her arms straightening, looking down hypnotized into the vortex below her. Her dress and hair were lifted by the wind of the ship’s movement. The only sound, above the rush of water below, was the flutter and snap of the big Union Jack right above her.</p><p>“<em>Don’t do it</em>.” a voice said behind her.</p><p>She whipped her head around at the sound of the voice. It took a second for her eyes to focus. She recognized him as the same blonde boy she saw staring at her earlier today.</p><p>“Stay back! Don’t come any closer!” she warned.</p><p>He saw the tear tracks on her cheeks in the faint glow from the stern running lights.</p><p>“Come on,” he stepped forward. “Just give me your hand. I’ll pull you back over.”</p><p>“No! Stay where you are. I mean it. I’ll let go.” she said in not so convincing voice.</p><p>He was smoking a cigarette. Taking the last smoke, he tossed it overboard to demonstrate the fall.</p><p>“No, you won’t.” he then said, shoving his hands in his pockets nonchalantly, taking the risk.</p><p>“What do you mean, no I won’t? Don’t presume to tell me what I will and will not do. You don’t know me.” she frowned.</p><p>“Well, you would have done it already.” he shrugged.</p><p>Rose was confused. She couldn’t see him very well through the tears so she wiped them with one hand, almost losing her balance.</p><p>“You’re distracting me. Go away!”</p><p>“I can’t. I’m involved now.” he shook his head. “You let go, and I’m going to have to jump in there after you.” he took off his coat.</p><p>“Don’t be absurd.” she furrowed her eyebrows. “You’ll be killed.”</p><p>“I’m a good swimmer.” replied he, unlacing his left shoe.</p><p>“The fall alone will kill you.”</p><p>“It would hurt, I’m not saying it wouldn’t. Tell you the truth, I’m a lot more concerned about that water being so cold.”</p><p>She looked down, the reality factor of what she was doing was sinking in.</p><p>“How cold?” she asked.</p><p>“Freezing. Maybe a couple degrees over.” he took off his shoe and started unlacing his right one. “You ever, uh, ever been to Wisconsin?” he just stood, putting his hands in his pockets again.</p><p>She looked around, not processing a single thing he said.</p><p>“What?” she voiced, perplexed.</p><p>“Well, they have some of the coldest winters around. I grew up there, near Chippewa Falls. I remember when I was a kid, me and my father, we went ice fishing out on Lake Wissota. Ice fishing is, you know, where you—”</p><p>“<em>I know what ice fishing is!</em>” she cut him off.</p><p>“Sorry.” he put his hands up in defense. “You just seem like, you know, kind of an indoor girl.” he made a face. “Anyway, I fell through some thin ice. And I’m telling you, water that cold, like right down there, it hits you like a thousand knives stabbing you all over your body. You can’t breathe. You can’t think. Least not about anything but the pain.” he took off his right shoe. “Which is why I’m not looking forward to jumping in there after you. Like I said, I don’t have a choice.” he took of his vest. “I guess I’m kind of hopping you’ll come back over the rail and get me off the hook here.”</p><p>“You’re crazy.” was all Rose had to say on all of this.</p><p>“That’s what everybody says, but, with all due respect, miss,” he leaned forward, “<em>I’m</em> not the one hanging off the back of a ship here.” he slid one step closer, like moving up on a spooked horse. “Come on. You don’t want to do this. Give me your hand.” he extended his.</p><p>Rose stared at this madman for a long time. She looked at his eyes and they somehow suddenly seemed to fill her universe.</p><p>“Alright.” she whispered; her breath shaky.</p><p>She unfastened one hand from the rail and reached it around toward him. He reached to take it, firmly. She started to turn. Now that she decided to live, the height was terrifying. She was overcome by vertigo as she shifted her footing, turning to face the ship.</p><p>“I’m Jack Dawson.” he introduced himself.</p><p>“Pleased to meet you, Mr. Dawson.” she said, her voice quavering. “Rose Dewitt Bukater.”</p><p>“I’ll have to get you to write that one down.” they both laughed. “Come on.”</p><p>As she started to climb, her dress got in the way and one foot slipped off the edge of the deck. She plunged, letting out a piercing shriek. Jack, gripping her hand, was jerked toward the rail. Rose barely grabbed a lower rail with her free hand.</p><p>“<em>Help! Help!</em>” Rose screamed.</p><hr/><p>Back inside was a dynamic, cheerful atmosphere. The band was softly playing in the background followed by the tunes of clinking glasses and china. It was getting late and the dining room was slowly getting emptied. Caledon took a glass of his champagne and rose from the table.</p><p>“Ah, Mr. Hockley!” Colonel Archibald Gracie stopped him. “Will you be joining us in a glass of brandy in the smoking room?”</p><p>“Yes, of course.” Caledon smiled and nodded. “Excuse me for a second now, you can start without me, though.” he eyed his mysterious lady raising from her table and hurried to beat her from leaving.</p><p>She leaned over and whispered something in, presumably, her mother’s ear. She lifted her eyes and noticed Caledon moving confidently towards her. She couldn’t sustain a smirk and nodded in response of something her mother was saying. She motioned with her head towards the outside, also starting to move in that direction. Cal paused for a second until he realized what was happening. He stepped forward before Lovejoy cut in between.</p><p>“Not now, Lovejoy, I am busy.” gritted Cal.</p><p>“It’s an emergency. Rose was attacked on the stern deck.”</p><p>Cal squinted his eyes at him, starting to feel slightly alarmed deep inside. They both hurried out.</p><hr/><p>A few minutes later, Jack was being detained by the burly master at arms, the closest thing to a cop on board. He was handcuffing Jack and Cal was right in front of him, furious. He had obviously just rushed out here with Lovejoy and another man and none of them had clothes over their black-tie evening dress. The other man was Colonel Archibald Gracie, a mustachioed blowhard who still had his brandy snifter. He offered it to Rose, who is hunched over crying on a bench nearby, but she waved it away. Cal was more concerned with Jack.</p><p>“This is completely unacceptable. <em>What made you think you could put your hands on my fiancée?!</em>” he grabbed him by the lapels. “<em>Look at me, you filth!</em>” he shook him. “What did you think you were doing?!”</p><p>“Cal, stop!” shouted Rose. “It was an accident.”</p><p>“An accident?!” he asked, disbelieving.</p><p>“It was. Stupid really.” she smiled. “I was leaning over and I slipped.” she looked at Jack, getting eye contact. “I was leaning way over, to see the, ah… uh, uh, the uh…” she motioned with her hand.</p><p>“Propellers?” guessed Cal.</p><p>“Propellers, and I slipped. And I would have gone overboard, but Mr. Dawson here saved me and almost went over himself.” she turned to look at him.</p><p>“You wanted to see the… She wanted to see the propellers.” Caledon declared for everyone.</p><p>“Like I said, women and machinery do not mix.” Gracie said, shaking his head.</p><p>“Was that the way of it?” master at arms questioned Jack.</p><p>He looked back at Rose. She was begging him with her eyes not to say what really happened.</p><p>“Yeah. Yeah, that was pretty much it.” he looked at Rose a moment longer, now they had a secret together.</p><p>“Well, the boy’s a hero then. Good for you son, well done!” exclaimed Colonel. “So it’s all’s well and back to our brandy, eh?” he said to Cal.</p><p>Jack was uncuffed and Cal got Rose to her feet and moving.</p><p>“Look at you. You must be freezing. Let’s get you inside.” he rubbed her arms, heading to leave without a second thought of Jack.</p><p>“Ah, perhaps a little something for the boy?” suggested Gracie.</p><p>“Of course. Mr. Lovejoy, I think twenty should do it.”</p><p>“Is that the going rate for saving the woman you love?” Rose laughed.</p><p>Caledon squinted his eyes amusingly at her. “Rose is displeased. Mmm, what to do?” he pursed his lips. “I know.”</p><p>He turned back to Jack. He appraised him condescendingly; a steerage ruffian, unwashed and ill-mannered. He stepped towards him.</p><p>“Perhaps you could join us for dinner tomorrow evening, to regale our group with your heroic tale?”</p><p>“Sure. Count me in.” he replied, looking straight at Rose.</p><p>“Good.” Cal flashed him a smile. “It’s settled then.”</p><p>He turned to go, putting a protective arm around Rose. He leaned to Gracie as they walked.</p><p>“<em>This should be amusing.</em>”</p><p>As they were passing, Caledon recognized a figure in the shadows. He escorted Rose to the first-class entrance before excusing himself. He returned out on the deck, but there was no one there. He twirled around for a few moments, but then decided to lit a cigarette and wait some more. Just when he let out a smoke, a figure emerged from the shadows.</p><p>“She’s quite something, your <em>fiancée</em>.”</p><p>One side of his mouth pulled into a smile. He offered her a cigarette, but she refused. When he tucked the cigarette box in his pocket, he then fully glanced at her. There she was, standing in the silk yellow gown, wrapped in white fur. She didn’t have an amusing face expression anymore and she wasn’t trying to hide it.</p><p>“And here you are, back in our business again.” exhaled Cal.</p><p>“It’s hard not to be when everything’s happening around you two.”</p><p>“And what is it to you?” he asked, amused. He leaned on the railing to have a full look of her.</p><p>“I don’t know…” she shrugged, murmuring. “Do you believe her?” he narrowed his eyebrows. “Do you believe that’s all that happened?”</p><p>“Do I have a reason not to?” he raised his eyebrows now.</p><p>She turned her head to the side. “Perhaps.” she voiced.</p><p>“How so?”</p><p>She wanted to roll her eyes. “I was there today, right before you came. I saw. He couldn’t take his eyes off her. And tonight, only blind could not notice secret glances between them—”</p><p>“Stop it!” he cut her off and put out his cigarette. “You’re trying to mess with my head. She is my fiancée, she belongs to me.”</p><p>“Sorry,” she grimaced “I just tried to be the only one honest with you.”</p><p>“I don’t need your advice. I don’t even know you.” he got offensive.</p><p>“You <em>could</em> get to know me.” she looked him straight in the eyes. “If you want to.”</p><p>That seemed to knock the breath out of his lungs. She was mysteriously beautiful, he couldn’t quite read her face. Her brown her was up in a stylish bun decorated with crystal ribbons. She barely had any makeup up, but her lips popped in bright red. Her cheeks were pink, but it was up for debate was it blush, cold night air or Mr. Caledon Hockley’s presence alone?</p><p>“I… I-I’d very much like that.” he mustered finally.</p><p>“Well, you could start by asking for my name.” she fidgeted her fingers, kind of annoyed she had to guide him through this.</p><p>“Right.” he breathed, realizing he still didn’t know it. “Who do I have the pleasure of talking to?” he smiled.</p><p>“Kiara Chandler.” she giggled.</p><p>“Pleasure to meet you, miss Chandler.” he kissed the back of her hand.</p><p>“Likewise, Mr. Hockley.”</p><p>“I’m afraid it’s getting late, but I have a proposition for you,” she felt her heart sink, knowing they’ll part ways soon, but raised her eyebrows in wonder, “why don’t you join us for dinner tomorrow evening?”</p><p>She laughed. “Someone is feeling generous tonight. Didn’t you already invite that third-class gentleman? I’m afraid it might get too crowded.”</p><p>“Please, it will only be more bearable with your presence.”</p><p>“You flatter me, Mr. Hockley,” she batted her eyelashes at him, “but I’m afraid I must decline.” seeing a look on his face she went on, “Well, what am I going to say to my parents?”</p><p>“They can come as well.” he didn’t see the problem.</p><p>“Oh, Mr. Hockley…”</p><p>“Just say yes,” he looked expectantly in her eyes.</p><p>She exhaled. “I can’t promise you anything, <em>but</em> I will try my best to convince them.”</p><p>“Alright, that’s good enough.” he nodded, smiling. “Please, will you allow me to walk you to the first-class entrance?”</p><p>“Certainly.” she flashed him a smile.</p><p>They walked side by side, chit chatting for a little bit longer before they parted ways at the elevators. Caledon enjoyed her company, but now he felt even more confused. He thought he had some real feelings towards Rose, but now he felt some different kind of feelings when he was with Kiara. And she did manage to get inside his head. He couldn’t shake the thought that someone else had more access to his fiancée. Maybe the only reason he invited Kiara to the dinner is to try and make Rose jealous for she’d finally look at <em>him</em>. But maybe also because he longed for her company. He felt like he could learn from her, that she was honest and innocent. She was everything he wasn’t. And he was afraid of ruining her. But maybe it’s true what they say that opposite attract.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Oh, my God, you guys! Thanks for all the positive feedback! To be honest, I wasn't planning on updating this any time soon, first chapter was posted kind of only to test the waters and gather some audience while I focus on the sequel of my other story, but honestly this story broke records of views and welp here we are... I can only say, get ready for more now. Another thing, english is not my first language and if you notice some mistakes please don't come after me haha but I still hope it is readable enough. Till next time &lt;3</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. III</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Happy Valentine's Day, loves! I decided to give you this chapter as a gift even though nothing overly romantic is happening. Also, I feel like I need to justify a couple of things and hopefully this is the first and the last time me doing this. I know 98% of the story is me retelling the movie and combining the original script lines and barely 2% is my original storyline. What I'm trying to do is make a parallel between Jack and Rose's and Cal and my OC's relationship. This fic was supposed to be a cliche romance fic, but, apparently, I can't write something without a dramatic plot so please just bear with me. I'm trying to write my stories as realistically as possible. There will be more Cal/Kiara as time goes on and less Jack/Rose because well we all know what happened there. I'm writing this note only because I don't want to lose readers thinking I'm just gonna copy half the movie in every chapter, I am not! So yeah, that's pretty much it for now. You can follow me on Twitter @/gurjanovawrites for the latest updates of my stories. Thank you for reading this long ass note and for your support. Happy further reading! &lt;3</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Cal closed the door of his room. Although it was bed time, he felt more and more restless as the time passed. He twirled around, changing his clothes when a thought struck him. He went to the wardrobe, turned the lock on his safe a few times and opened it. His fingers brushed on the dark blue velvet box, hesitantly. Then he took it out. Even though the thoughts of Kiara creeped in the back of his mind, he couldn’t completely forget about Rose either. He still felt obliged to her. They spent some time together and he did, in fact, care about her. He was ready to give her everything and she was going to see it now.</p>
<hr/><p>As she was undressing for bed, Rose saw Cal standing in her doorway, reflected in the cracked mirror of her vanity. He came towards her.</p><p>“I know you’ve been melancholy, and I don’t pretend to know why.” he voiced, unexpectedly tender.</p><p>From behind his back, he presented the jewel box before her.</p><p>“I intended to save this till the engagement gala next week, but I thought tonight. Perhaps a reminder of my feelings for you…”</p><p>He opened the box. Inside was the necklace, <em>Heart of the Ocean</em> in all its glory. It was huge, a malevolent blue stone glittering with an infinity of scalpel-like inner reflection. Rose’s hand flew towards the box, he chuckled.</p><p>“My God, Cal. Is it a—”</p><p>“Diamond?” he cut her off, smiling. “Yes, it is. Fifty-six carats to be exact.”</p><p>He took the necklace and during the following placed it around her throat. He turned her to the mirror, staring behind her.</p><p>“It was once worn by Louis the Sixteenth. They call it Le Coeur de la Mer, the—”</p><p>“The Heart of the Ocean.” they said in unison. “Cal, it’s… it’s overwhelming.”</p><p>He gazed at the image of the two of them in the mirror.</p><p>“It’s for royalty.” he said. “We <em>are</em> royalty, Rose.”</p><p>His fingers caress her neck and throat. He seemed himself to be disarmed by Rose’s elegance and beauty. His emotion was, for the first time, unguarded. He kneeled beside her.</p><p>“You know, there’s nothing I couldn’t give you. There’s nothing I’d deny you if you would not deny me.” he looked piercingly in her eyes. “Open your heart to me, Rose.” he nudged her a bit.</p><p>Rose sat still and silent, staring back at her reflection again. She grasped her throat with her hand, she felt like she was chocking. Of course, his gift was to only reflect light back to himself, she knew. To illuminate the greatness that was Caledon Hockley. It was a cold stone, a heart of ice. She felt like it was closing around her throat like a dog collar. She took it off, returning it into the box.</p><p>“Thank you, Cal, but I can’t take it. Right now.”</p><p>A flash of hurt showed on his face, but he quickly recollected himself. He stood up, closing the box and taking it with him.</p><p>“Right. I will secure it back in the safe, it will wait for you there.” he tried to laugh.</p><p>She nodded, wrinkling corners of her mouth in a slight smile.</p><p>“I see you were getting ready for bed; I’ll leave you to it… unless you invite me to stay.”</p><p>She looked back at him in the mirror. “Not tonight.”</p><p>“Right, alright… Well, good night then.” he smiled, before closing the door behind him.</p>
<hr/><p>
  <strong>Saturday, 13<sup>th</sup> April 1912<br/>
Afternoon hours</strong>
</p><p>Kiara was in her room, doing nothing, when her mother walked in.</p><p>“Here you are, idle again.” she said.</p><p>“Oh, mother,” she almost rolled her eyes, “what do you want me to do?”</p><p>“Something, at least, go read a book sometime besides only looking at yourself in the mirror. You’re lucky it’s me, what would your father say…” she shook her head, placing her hands on her hips.</p><p>She turned to leave, but then Kiara remembered.</p><p>“Mother, I’ve been meaning to ask…” she sucked in her lips.</p><p>“Yes?” she turned in the doorway, rising her eyebrow curiously.</p><p>“I’ve been, well, we’ve been invited to this dinner tonight…”</p><p>“By who?” now she was fully turned and frowning.</p><p>“By Mr. Hockley.” she gulped.</p><p>“Good gracious,” her mother laughed, “what does he want with you? Listen, Kiara, you are ripe for marriage—”</p><p>“I doubt he wants to marry me, mother. He has a fiancée.” she looked away, pursing her lips.</p><p>“An engaged man is inviting you to dinner? What kind of man is that?”</p><p>Kiara kept staring at the floor, trying to hide a smile that tickled her lips from the thought that just occurred to her.</p><p>“Desperate, mother. His fiancée is dragging herself with another man.”</p><p>“Kiara, you are nobody’s second choice. We are not going to that dinner.”</p><p>“But mother, I just met him—”</p><p>“Yes, and now he wants to kill his time with you, like his fiancée does, but when the ship docks, they will leave together and get married and you will be left alone and heartbroken.”</p><p>Kiara remained silent, biting her lips not to start crying. She suddenly moved, grabbing a book from the coffee table nearby.</p><p>“You know nothing.” she murmured, heading for the door.</p><p>“You are not going to that dinner, you hear me? That is final!” her mother shouted, but she barely heard her for she was already walking down the corridor.</p>
<hr/><p>Rose was walking down the first-class promenade deck with purpose. She was thinking about how the sunlight felt, as if she hadn’t felt the sun in years. She unlatched the gate that led to third-class. The steerage men on the deck stopped what they were doing and stared at her. She nodded a bit, giving them polite smiles, uncomfortable from all the attention she was getting. She was headed for the third-class general room, where the social center of steerage life was.</p><p>It was stark comparison to the opulence of first-class, but was a loud, boisterous place. There were mothers with babies, kids running between the benches yelling in several languages and being scolded in several more. There were old women yelling, men playing chess, girls doing needlepoint and reading dime novels. There was even an upright piano and someone was noodling around it.</p><p>Three boys, shrieking and shouting, were scrambling around chasing a rat under the benches, trying to whomp it with a shoe and causing general havoc. Jack was playing with a five-year-old, drawing funny faces together in his sketchbook.</p><p>Rose was coming toward them. The activity in the room stopped, a hush fell. She suddenly felt self-conscious as the steerage passengers stared openly at this princess, some with resentment, others with awe. She spotted Jack and gave him a little smile, walking straight up to him. He rose to meet her, smiling.</p><p>“Hello, Jack.” she said.</p><p>“Hello again.” he replied.</p><p>“Could I speak to you?” she looked around. “In private?”</p><p>“Uh, yes. Of course.” he turned to grab his sketchbook, then motioned with his arm. “After you.”</p><p>He motioned her ahead and followed. He glanced over his shoulder, one eyebrow raised, as he walked out with her leaving a stunned silence.</p><p>They walked side by side. They passed people reading and talking in steamer chair, some of whom glanced curiously at the mismatched couple. He felt out of place in his rough clothes. They were both awkward, for different reasons.</p><p>“Well, I’ve been on my own since I was fifteen, since my folks died. And I had no brothers or sisters or close kin in that part of the country so I lit on out of there and I haven’t been back since. You could just call me a tumbleweed blowing in the wind.” he chuckled, finishing. “Well, Rose, we’ve walked about a mile around this boat deck and chewed over how great the weather’s been and how I grew up, but I reckon that’s not why you came to talk to me, is it?”</p><p>“Mr. Dawson, I—”</p><p>“Jack.”</p><p>“Jack…” she tested his name like she never said it before. “I feel like such an idiot. It took me all morning to get up the nerve to face you.”</p><p>“Well, here you are.” he spread his arms.</p><p>“Here I am.” she repeated, smiling. “I… I want to thank you for what you did. Not just for… for pulling me back, but for your discretion.”</p><p>“You’re welcome. Rose.” he said.</p><p>“Look, I know what you must be thinking. Poor little rich girl! What does she know about misery?”</p><p>“No.” he made a stop. “No, that’s not what I was thinking.” he reassured her. “What I was thinking was, what could have happened to this girl to make her think she had no way out?”</p><p>“Well, I… I don’t…” she wanted to start, but she didn’t know how. “It wasn’t just <em>one</em> thing. It was <em>everything</em>. It was <em>them</em>, it was their whole world and I was trapped in it, like an insect in amber.” she went on in a rush. “I just had to get away. Just run and run and run… and then I was at the back rail and there was no more ship. Even the <em>Titanic</em> wasn’t big enough. Not enough to get away from <em>them</em>. And before I’d really thought about it, I was over the rail. I was so furious. <em>I’ll show them, they’ll be sorry!</em>”</p><p>“Uh huh. They’ll be sorry. ‘Course you’ll be dead.” said Jack.</p><p>She lowered her head, shaking it. “Oh, God, I am such an utter fool.”</p><p>“That penguin last night, is he on of <em>them</em>?” he raised his eyebrows curiously.</p><p>“Penguin?” she frowned for a second, then realized. “Oh, Cal! He <em>is</em> them.”</p><p>“Is he your boyfriend?”</p><p>“Worse I’m afraid.” she showed him her engagement ring, a sizable diamond.</p><p>“Gawd, look at that thing! You would’ve gone straight to the bottom.”</p><p>They laughed together. A passing steward scowled at Jack, who clearly wasn’t a first-class passenger, but Rose just glared at him away.</p><p>“Five hundred invitations have gone out. All of Philadelphia society will be there. And all the while I feel like I’m standing in the middle of a crowded room screaming at the top of my lungs and no one even looks up.”</p><p>“So, you feel like you’re stuck on a train you can’t get off cause you’re marrying this fella.”</p><p>“Yes, exactly!” she exclaimed.</p><p>“Do you love him?” he nonchalantly asked.</p><p>“Pardon me?”</p><p>“Do you love him?” he repeated.</p><p>“You’re being very rude. You shouldn’t be asking me this.” she took offense.</p><p>“Well, it’s simple question. Do you love the guy or not? Don’t marry him if you don’t.”</p><p>“If only it were that simple.” she scoffed. “This is not a suitable conversation.”</p><p>“Why can’t you just answer the question. It is that simple.”</p><p>She laughed. “This is absurd. Please don’t judge me until you’ve seen my world.”</p><p>“Well, I guess I will tonight.” he shrugged.</p><p>“You don’t know me and I don’t know you and we are not having this conversation at all.” she went on like he didn’t say anything at all. “You are rude and uncouth and presumptuous and I am leaving now,” she extended her arm for him to shake “Jack—Mr. Dawson, it’s been a pleasure. I sought you out to thank you and now I have thanked you.”</p><p>“And you’ve insulted me.” he cut in.</p><p>“Well, you deserved it.”</p><p>“Right.”</p><p>“Right.”</p><p>They were still shaking hands.</p><p>“I thought you were leaving.” he said.</p><p>“I am.” she finally pulled away. “You are so annoying.” she turned back once more before heading away. “Wait! I don’t have to leave. This is my part of the ship. You leave.” she pointed with her hand.</p><p>He chuckled. “Well, well, well. Now who’s being rude?”</p><p>She let out a laugh, not knowing what to say. Looking for another topic, any other topic, she indicated his sketchbook.</p><p>“What is this stupid thing you’re carrying around?” it was a rhetorical question for she had already snatched it from him.</p><p>Rose sat on a deck chair and opened it unaware of someone’s presence not so far behind. Over the rim of the book, Kiara was half lying on the deck chair in her green afternoon dress observing the whole situation happening before her eyes. And really, she always seemed to be involved in their business whether she wanted it or not. But now she held precious information against Rose to present to Cal. She lowered her hat to her eyes to block the sun and paying attention onto the book again, but still peering at them from the corner of her eye.</p><p>They were going through his sketchbook, Rose seemed pretty interested in it. Some loose sketches fell out and were taken by the wind. Jack scrambled after them, catching two, but the rest were gone over the rail. Kiara suppressed a laugh. Then Jack threw the other two he caught over the rail and Rose laughed. Now she thought he was mad, both of them. She stopped looking for real this time and started reading again. Two pages later, someone sat at the foot of her chair, blocking the sunlight. She closed the book, putting it away.</p><p>“I was just reading the title.” he said, smiling a bit.</p><p>“Mr. Hockley,” she straightened up.</p><p>“Caledon. Or Cal. Whatever’s easier for you.”</p><p>“Alright, <em>Cal.</em>” she breathed. She could feel her heart racing and her breathing quickening.</p><p>“You still owe me an answer. Will we be blessed with your presence tonight?”</p><p>Her brown eyes glinted in the sunlight; her mouth spread in an amused smirk.</p><p>“I guess I’ll leave that as a factor of surprise.” leafing through a book and avoiding eye contact she replied, not wanting to give him the full truth. “But I doubt you were looking for me just to ask me that, no?” she peered at him.</p><p>He stiffened, clearing his throat.</p><p>“No, you’re right actually. I was looking for Rose, but then I saw you and thought to say hi.” Kiara’s lips pressed. “Have you seen her, by the way?”</p><p>She glanced in the direction where Jack and Rose once were, it was empty.</p><p>“No.” she lied, jealousy stinging her heart.</p><p>“Well,” he slapped his knees, “I’ll leave you to it. And I hope to see you tonight.” he rose up and flashed her a bright smile.</p><p>She looked up, squeezing her eyes from the sun and smiling back, even though she didn’t feel like it now, watching him walk away. She opened the book again, trying to remember what page she was on, not that she was really into it to memorize.</p><p>
  <em>Oh, you will see me tonight, Caledon Hockley, and tonight shall be interesting. </em>
</p>
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<a name="section0004"><h2>4. IV</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“But the purpose of university is to find a suitable husband. Rose has already done that.”</p><p>Ruth was having tea with Noel Lucy Martha Dyer-Edwardes, the Countess of Rothes, a thirty-five ish English blue-blood with patrician features. Ruth saw someone coming across the room and lowered her voice.</p><p>“Oh no, that vulgar Brown woman is coming this way. Get up, quickly before she sits with us.”</p><p>Molly Brown walked up, greeting them cheerfully as they were rising.</p><p>“Hello, girls. I was hoping I’d catch you at tea.”</p><p>“We’re <em>awfully</em> sorry you missed it.” started Ruth. “The Countess and I are just off to take the air on the boat deck.”</p><p>“What a lovely idea. Let’s go. I need to catch up on my gossip.”</p><p>Ruth gritted her teeth as the three of them headed for the Grand Staircase to go up. At another table nearby, Bruce Ismay and Captain Smith were sitting.</p><p>“So, you’ve not lit the last four boilers then?” asked Ismay, his eyes on the paper in his hand.</p><p>“No, I don’t see the need. We’re making excellent time.” replied captain.</p><p>“Captain, the press knows the size of <em>Titanic</em>, let them marvel at her speed too. We must give them something new to print.” Ismay said, impatiently. “And the maiden voyage of <em>Titanic</em> <em>must make headlines</em>!”</p><p>“Mr. Ismay, I’d prefer not to push the engines until they’ve been properly run in.”</p><p>“Of course, I’m just a passenger, I leave it to your good officers to decide what’s best. But what a glorious end to your final crossing if we were to get into New York on Tuesday night and surprise them all. Make the morning papers.” he slapped his hand on the table. “Retire with a bang, eh, E.J.?”</p><p>A beat. Then Smith nodded, stiffy.</p><p>“Good man.” nodded Ismay, taking a smoke.</p>
<hr/><p>Rose and Jack strolled aft, past people lounging on deck chairs in the slanting late-afternoon light. Stewards scurried to serve tea or hot cocoa.</p><p>“You know, my dream has always been to just chuck it all and become an artist. Living in a garret, poor but free!” she said, girlish and excited.</p><p>“You wouldn’t last two days. There’s no hot water and hardly <em>ever</em> any caviar.” he laughed.</p><p>“Listen, buster,” she started, angry in a flash. “I hate caviar! And I’m tired of people dismissing my dreams with a chuckle and a pat on the head.”</p><p>“I’m sorry. Really, I am.”</p><p>“Well, alright. There’s something in me, Jack. I feel it. I don’t know what it is, whether I should be an artist or, I don’t know, a dancer. Like Isadora Duncan, a wild pagan spirit.” she leaped forward, landing deftly and whirled like a dervish.</p><p>Then she saw something ahead and her face lit up.</p><p>“Or a <em>moving picture actress</em>!” she took his hand and ran, pulling him along the deck toward Daniel and Mary Marvin.</p><p>Daniel was cranking the big wooden camera as she posed stiffy at the rail.</p><p>“You’re sad. Sad, sad, sad. You’ve left your lover on the shore. You may never see him again. Try to be sadder, darling.”</p><p>Suddenly, Rose shot into the shot and stroked a theatrical pose at the rail next to Mary. Mary bursted out laughing. Rose pulled Jack into the picture and made him pose. Marvin grinned and started yelling and gesturing.</p><p>Rose posed tragically at the rail, the back of her hand to her forehead.</p><p>Jack on a deck chair, pretending to be a Pasha, the two girls pantomiming him like slave girls.</p><p>Jack, on his knees, pleading with his hands clasped while Rose, standing, turned her head in bored disdain.</p><p>Rose cranking the camera while Daniel and Jack have a western shoot-out. Jack won and leered into lens, twirling an air mustache like Snidely Whiplash.</p>
<hr/><p>Painted with orange light, Jack and Rose lean on the A-deck rail aft, shoulder to shoulder. The ship’s lights come on. It was a magical moment, perfect.</p><p>“So, then what, Mr. Wandering Jack?” she asked.</p><p>“Well, after that I worked on a squid boat in Monterey. Logging got to be too much like work, so I went down to Los Angeles to the pier in Santa Monica. That’s a swell place, they even have a rollercoaster. I sketched portraits there for ten cents apiece.”</p><p>“A whole ten cents?!”</p><p>“Yeah, it was great money.” he shrugged, not getting it. “I could make a dollar a day, sometimes. But only in summer. When it got cold, I decided to go to Paris and see what the real artists were doing.”</p><p>“Why can’t I be like you Jack? Just head out for the horizon whenever I feel like it.” she looked at the dusk sky then turned to him. “Say we’ll go there, sometime, to that pier, even if we only ever just talk about it.”</p><p>“No, we’ll do it. We’ll drink cheap beer and ride on the rollercoaster until we throw up and we’ll ride horses on the beach, right in the surf. But you have to ride like a real cowboy, none of that side-saddle stuff.”</p><p>“You mean one leg on each side?” he nodded. “<em>Scandalous</em>! Can you show me?”</p><p>“Sure. If you like.”</p><p>“Teach me to ride like a man.” she smiled at him then looked at the horizon.</p><p>“Chew tobacco like a man.”</p><p>“And spit like a man! Why should only men be able to spit. It’s unfair.”</p><p>“They didn’t teach you that in finishing school?” he asked, amused.</p><p>“No.” she laughed.</p><p>“Come on, I’ll show you. Let’s do it.” he took her by the hand and pulled her forward.</p><p>“Jack! No, Jack, no.” she hissed. “Wait. I couldn’t possibly, Jack.”</p><p>“Here, it’s easy. Watch closely.” he spitted, it arced out over the water.</p><p>“That’s disgusting!” she shouted.</p><p>“Your turn.”</p><p>Rose screwed up her mouth and spat. A pathetic little bit of foamy spittle which mostly ran down her chin before falling off into the water.</p><p>“Nope, that was pitiful. Here, like this. You hawk it back, get some leverage then roll it on your tongue, use your arms, up to the front, like thith, then a big breath, arc your neck and PLOW! You see the range of that thing?”</p><p>“Mhm.” she nodded.</p><p>She goes through the steps. Hawking it down and so on. He coached her through it while doing the steps himself. She let fly, so did he. Two comets of gob flew out over the water.</p><p>“That was better. You have to work on it. Really try to hawk it up.”</p><p>Rose turned to him; her face alight. Suddenly, she blanched. He saw her expression and turned.</p><p>“Mother! May I introduce Jack Dawson?”</p><p>“Charmed, I’m sure.” said Ruth, watching him carefully.</p><p>Jack had a little spit running down his chin, he didn’t know it. Molly Brown was grinning as Rose proceeded with the introductions. The other were gracious and curious about the man who’d saved her life, but her mother looked at him like an insect. A dangerous insect which must be squashed quickly.</p><p>“Well, Jack, it sounds like you’re a good man to have around in a sticky spot—” they all jumped as a bugler sounded the meal call right behind them. “Why do they insist on always announcing dinner like a damn cavalry charge?” Molly added.</p><p>“Shall we go dress, mother?” over her shoulder she said “See you at dinner, Jack.”</p><p>“Rose, look at you. Out in the sun with no hat. Honestly!” Ruth scolded as they walked.</p><p>Walking behind them was Kiara, hiding her face behind her hat and elegantly swaying her hips. She, of course, witnessed the previous <em>incident</em> and was trying to hide her smugly smile. She was on her way to get dressed for dinner herself. Her personal maid, Elise, was already in the room waiting for her mistress.</p><p>“Where are mother and father?” asked Kiara, taking off her hat and letting her hair fall.</p><p>“I believe they already started getting ready for dinner, miss.” answered the maid.</p><p>“Good.” Kiara pressed her lips.</p><p>“Here, miss, I picked three evening gowns for you to choose from.” Elise rushed to the bed where black, white and red dresses laid.</p><p>Kiara walked over, feeling each piece of fabric with her fingers. She looked at every dress carefully, finally stopping at smiling at the fire like red one.</p><p>“This one!” she turned with the dress over her chest, showing off.</p><p>“Excellent choice, miss! Let’s get you all dolled up.” Elise rushed to put other two back in the closet before helping Kiara out of her afternoon dress.</p><p>Dinners on the Titanic were the peak of opulence on the journey, and the highly formal event meant that many first-class women wore a different dress each night. From the undergarments to the overskirts, every piece of the outfit was switched for more luxurious fabrics and styles – silk chemises instead of cotton, more elegant corsets and silk stockings rather than wool.</p><p>“Is this alright for you miss?” asked Elise, adjusting her mistress’s corset.</p><p>Kiara tried to wiggle around. “Yes, perfect.” she smiled.</p><p>Then with the help of Elise, she slipped into her dress. She admired herself in the mirror, straightening it. The dress was rather plain, with no much-added details to it, but still glamorous for following her body outline. Sleeves were shorter, exposing a bit of shoulders; neckline was also lower in a soft V line and columns were long with empire waist line that perfectly highlighted her hour-glass figure. She picked up black gloves from the table that Elise previously prepared and put them on, sitting in front of her vanity mirror. Elise walked up to her, showing her the jewelry box.</p><p>“Oh, right,” Kiara remembered. “Let’s go with this pearls and matching earrings.” she politely smiled.</p><p>“You’re in a really good mood today, miss. Did something happen?” asked Elise, clasping the necklace behind her lady’s neck.</p><p>“I got invited to the dinner tonight by Mr. Hockley!” Kiara answered excitedly, applying rouge to her cheeks.</p><p>“Ooh,” Elise mouthed. “Your parents must be excited.” she was brushing Kiara’s hair now.</p><p>“That’s the thing, Elie, they don’t know.” she made a popping sound with her mouth after finishing applying deep red lipstick to her lips. “And Mr. Hockley doesn’t know I’m coming yet.”</p><p>Elise’s eyes opened wide, but didn’t say anything. “How’d you like your hair tonight, miss?”</p><p>“Oh, just let it be.” she waved off. “But here, you can pull some of it back with this ribbon.” she pointed at the white silky ribbon with small pieces of diamonds all over. “We don’t have time for much styling, we need to hurry so my parents don’t catch me.”</p><p>“Scandalous!” muttered Elise under her breath. “And why is that, miss?” she wondered, attending to her hair.</p><p>“They were invited as well, but they refused, not allowing me to go either.” she rolled her eyes. “All that because Mr. Hockley is engaged.”</p><p>Elise sustained a gasp, but couldn’t really control her facial expressions. Luckily for her, Kiara was busy fidgeting with her other ribbons that were on the table to notice.</p><p>“All done, miss!” smiled the maid, placing her hands-on Kiara’s shoulder.</p><p>Kiara looked up and smiled satisfactorily. “Perfect. Thanks, Elie.” she stood up and slipped into her black low, thin heels.</p><p>Waiting for her, Elise stood by the door holding Kiara’s purse and black fur collar.</p><p>“Thanks.” Kiara smiled again, adjusting the fur and taking the purse.</p><p>“Have a great time, miss!” Elise shouted before closing the door.</p>
<hr/><p>Kiara was walking along the corridor, following the drifting strains of classic music. By Edwardian standards she looked badass, dashing in her mermaid red gown, right down to her pearl studs. A steward bowed and greeted her smartly. She smoothly returned, nodding with just the right degree of disdain.</p><p>She suddenly became self-aware that she was standing alone in the middle of the crowded room. She felt overwhelmed by the splendor spread out before her. Overhead was the enormous glass dome with a crystal chandelier at its center. Sweeping down six stories was the First-Class Grand Staircase, the epitome of the opulent naval architecture of the time.</p><p>And the people: the women in their floor length dresses, elaborate hairstyles and abundant jewelry. The gentlemen in evening dress, standing with one hand at the small of the back, talking quietly.</p><p>Cal came down the stairs with Ruth on his arm, covered in jewelry.</p><p>“Thousands of tons of Hockley steel are in this ship.”</p><p>“Which part?” asked Ruth.</p><p>“All the right ones.”</p><p>“Then you’re accountable if there’s a problem. Where’s Rose?”</p><p>“She’ll be along.” he nonchalantly replied. “There is the Countess.” he hurried to greet her.</p><p>They both walked past another gentleman, neither of them recognizing him. Cal nodded at him, one gent to another. But the other gentleman barely had time to be amused. Because just behind Cal and Ruth on the stairs was Rose, a vision in red and black, her low-cut dress showing off her neck and shoulders, her arms seated in white gloves that come well above the elbow. The gentleman was hypnotized by her beauty.</p><p>On the opposite side of her, Kiara was coming down the stairs. They held eye contact for a while, Rose unsuspecting of anything. Instead, she nodded a perfunctory greeting. Kiara nodded back, keeping it simple. She felt like a spy.</p><p>As Rose approached Jack, he imitated the gentlemen’s stance, hand behind his back. She extended her gloved hand and he took it, kissing the back of her fingers. Rose flushed, beaming noticeably. She couldn’t take her eyes off him.</p><p>Kiara rolled her eyes behind them. <em>Pathetic.</em></p><p>“I saw that in a nickelodeon once and I always wanted to do it.” said Jack, smiling as well.</p><p>He then offered her his arm and she hooked hers through his.</p><p>“Darling, surely you remember Mr. Dawson.” she patted Cal on the arm once they caught up with them.</p><p>“Dawson!” he exclaimed, caught off guard. “I didn’t recognize you.” he studied him. “Amazing! You could almost pass for a gentleman.”</p><p>“Almost.”</p><p>“This is extraordinary.” said Cal, not stopping to smile and linking arms with Ruth.</p><p>He looked back once more, thinking he saw someone, but there was no one there. He frowned slightly, but proceeded to move forward.</p>
<hr/><p>The party descended to dinner. They encountered Molly Brown, looking good in a beaded dress, in her own busty broad-shouldered way. Molly grinned when she saw Jack.</p><p>“Care to escort a lady to dinner?”</p><p>“Certainly.”</p><p>As they were going into the dining saloon, she walked next to him, speaking low.</p><p>“Ain’t nothing to it, is there Jack?”</p><p>“Yeah, you just dress like a pallbearer and keep your nose up.”</p><p>“Remember, the only thing they respect is money, so just act like you’ve got a lot of it and you’re in the club.”</p><p>As they entered the swirling throng, Rose leaned closer to him, pointing out several notables.</p><p>“That’s the Countess of Rothes. And that’s John Jacob Astor, the richest man on the ship. His little wifey there, Madeleine, is my age and in a delicate condition. See how she’s trying to hide it. Quite the scandal.” nodding toward a couple. “And over there, that’s Sir Cosmo and Lucile, Lady Duff-Gordon. She designs naughty lingerie, among her many talents. Very popular with the royals.”</p><p>Cal became engrossed in a conversation with Cosmo Duff-Gordon and Colonel Gracie while Ruth, the Countess and Lucille discuss fashion.</p><p>“This is a remarkable voyage.”</p><p>“Mad.”</p><p>“Completely lunatic.”</p><p>Rose picoted Jack smoothly to show him another couple, dressed impeccably.</p><p>“And that’s Benjamin Guggenheim and his mistress, Madame Aubert. <em>Mrs</em>. Guggenheim is at home with the children, of course.”</p><p>Cal, meanwhile, was accepting the praise of his male counterparts, who are looking at Rose like a prize show horse.</p><p>“Congratulations, Hockley, she is splendid.” said sir Cosmo.</p><p>“Why thank you.”</p><p>“Cal’s a lucky man. I know him well, and it can <em>only</em> be luck.” Gracie said.</p><p>Ruth stepped over, hearing the last. She took Cal’s arm, somewhat coquettishly.</p><p>“How can you say that, Colonel? Caledon Hockley is a great catch.”</p><p>Cal smiled stiffly, his eyes roaming around the room searching for a familiar face.</p><p>The entourage strolls toward the dining saloon where they run into the Astor’s going through the ornate double doors.</p><p>“Hey, Astor!” shouted Molly.</p><p>“J.J., Madeleine, I’d like you to meet Jack Dawson.” Rose started.</p><p>“Good to meet you, Jack.” Astor said, shaking his hand. “Are you of the Boston Dawsons?”</p><p>“No, the Chippewa Falls Dawsons, actually.”</p><p>J.J. nodded as if he’s heard of them, then looked puzzled. Madeleine Astor appraised Jack and whispered girlishly to Rose.</p><p>“It’s a pity we’re both spoken for, isn’t it?”</p>
<hr/><p>Dining saloon was like a ballroom at the palace, alive and lit by a constellation of chandeliers, full of elegantly dressed people and beautiful music from band leader Wallace Hartley’s small orchestra. Rose and Jack entered and moved across the room to their table, Cal and Ruth beside them. Jack must have been nervous, but he never faltered. They assumed he was one of them, a young captain of industry perhaps. New money, obviously, but still a member of the club. When they all got settled that’s when Kiara approached them. She cleared her throat.</p><p>“Good evening, gentleman.”</p><p>Cal’s eyes shot up, recognizing her voice. She stood alone in the middle, looking at every one of them, clenching her purse. He parted his lips, not letting out a single sound. In his eyes she looked breathtaking.</p><p>“Can we help you?” asked Ruth.</p><p>Caledon cleared his throat, standing up. “May I introduce Miss Kiara Chandler. She will be dining with us tonight, upon my invitation.” he flashed her a smile, relieved that she didn’t reject him.</p><p>Rose looked her up and down, recognizing her and cocking an eyebrow, but dismissed her right after. Kiara sat between Jack and the Countess.</p><p>“Thank you.” she smiled, all eyes on her.</p><p>“Miss Chandler and I met the other day on deck.” Cal elaborated. “She… kept me company out on deck after an argument with Rose. So, as gratitude, I decided to invite her over tonight.”</p><p>“Oh, it was nothing.” Kiara waved off, smiling.</p><p>Everyone else were curious about both Jack and now Kiara. Two new faces in their circle. Both going after what they want and imposing their presence. Ruth was the only one who seemed disinterested on the surface, without asking any questions, yet. But now she was in even more danger, surrounded by two dangerous insects that needed to be squashed as soon as possible.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Omg this chapter...is something. Sorry for the late update + presenting you this bad written chapter, but I have another announcement to make. I enrolled in drama school this February and my classes finally started which leaves me little to no time and energy to write. I will try to write at least something every day, but still can't promise that I will update regularly. :( Also, another question. When it comes to the length of the chapters, do you prefer longer or shorter ones? Let me know. :D Love you, thank you for your support ♥</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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